Just Haven't Met You Yet(100)
“I saw that Bee Bee Graceful wore one of your quaint necklaces to the book launch where she revealed her true identity. I’m sure that didn’t do you any harm PR-wise,” Suki says, her eyes challenging me for a reaction. “Not that your designs aren’t charming, but I’m sure it helps to have a global influencer on your side.”
“Well, yes, that certainly helped raise my profile.” Suki still hasn’t forgiven me for leaving. She pretends to play nice, especially since she credits me for introducing her to Jasper, but a little backhanded insult can usually be found in there somewhere. “Right, shall we get this on tape then?”
Jasper and Suki take seats on the red studio sofa. Avril, the camerawoman, has the lighting and the sound all set up. I perch on a stool out of shot and notice how strange it feels to be doing one of these interviews again, with these two, of all people.
“So,” I say in my best presenter voice, “Suki and Jasper, tell our Love Life subscribers, how did you meet?”
“Well, it all began when one of my best journalists, who shall remain nameless, ha-ha, went to Jersey to research a story, and she picked up the wrong suitcase at the airport . . .” Suki begins.
* * *
*
The interview goes well. Suki does ninety percent of the talking, but it is clear how besotted Jasper is, he can’t take his eyes off her.
When he is finally allowed a chance to speak, he says, “The funny thing is, Suki is not my usual type at all. I usually go for blondes, and she’s got black hair; she’s city, I’m country; she hates boats, I live on them; I’m a foodie, and she doesn’t seem to eat anything. She can’t abide the kind of music I like, but well, something about it just works—all I want to do is make her happy. Love works in mysterious ways sometimes, doesn’t it?”
“It does. Congratulations on your engagement,” I say. “Can you tell us about the proposal?”
“Well, Jasper sent me a text, asking if I could get him a drink from the fridge in the Emmeline kitchen—which you can see if you swipe up from this interview. It’s one of his best sellers; anyway, I trot along and open the door, and Jasper has taken all the shelves out and is sitting in there with a ring.”
I can’t help laughing at this. They hadn’t told me that detail when they asked me to do this interview.
“Of course, I fainted clean away. It was so terrifying finding a body in the fridge, so he only got to propose properly once the paramedics arrived and I was sufficiently conscious.”
“It was a bit of a botched job, I’ll admit,” says Jasper, “Though it does go to show how exceptionally spacious Furlong Fridges are—I put them in all the Contessa Kitchens. Luckily, despite scaring her half to death, Suki still said yes. We’ll have to split our time between London and Jersey, but we’ll make it work.” Jasper leans over to kiss Suki’s head, then rolls up his sleeve to reveal a small “Suki” tattoo written in italic on his forearm. “I never thought I’d be the type of person to get a tattoo.”
“I’ve got one too,” says Suki, “but I won’t show you where.”
And then they start tickling each other, giggling and whispering in a way that makes Avril and me feel we’d both like freakishly large fridges to climb into.
* * *
*
Once we’ve wrapped filming, I have to run; I’m meeting Ted for dinner after his shift at the hospital.
“Laura, are you sure I can’t persuade you and Ted to do an interview for us?” Suki asks. “Your story is almost as good as ours, and it’s always good to have friends of the Love Life family doing their bit to support the brand.”
“No, I don’t think so, Suki. We’re—” I try to think of a tactful way to say that we don’t want to share our story with anyone else. “We’re trying to keep things low-key.”
“Fine.” Suki sighs. “Well, I’ll give you the nod at our wedding to make sure you catch the bouquet. Oh, and Henry Cavill is coming too, so if you want an upgrade on Ted, let me know and I’ll sort out the seating plan.”
We say our good-byes, and I run to the train to take me down to Chelsea and Westminster.
The Fulham Road is damp from an earlier rain shower, the pavement busy—people queue for buses, pull their coats around them, and hurry off to wherever they are going. The streetlights have just come on in the early evening light, and there is an amber glow in the air. After waiting outside the front of the hospital for five minutes, I see Ted come out through the doors, looking left and right a few times before he clocks me. I don’t call out to him. Sometimes, I love just watching the way he is in the world; I savor this stolen moment to take him in before he sees me. He’s grown his beard back, at my request, but it’s short now, well groomed, and I love it, my Beardy McCastaway.
He sees me and tilts his head, shrugging as though to ask why I didn’t call out his name.
“All right, Lady Muck?” he says.
“How was it? Your last day.”
But he doesn’t answer, he just picks me up off the ground, folds me in his arms, and kisses me as though it were the first time. It’s his I-don’t-care-who’s-watching kiss, and it floors me every time.